I am Black Light
by Jonas Grant
Summary: A boy wakes up on a ravaged colony without any memories of what happened the day before, for the simple reason he did not exist back then. He must now evolve in a world that is falling apart and choose if he wants to be a human being, a god, or a Pariah.
1. Happy Birthday

At first, there was silence, silence and darkness. A complete lack of thought, knowledge or memories. Like a powerful war machine without a driver.

Then, I emerge. Like the survivor of a shipwreck, emerging from the metaphorical waters to take a breath of sensations, as limited as it may be. I would compare it to a new born, but this body is used, it had a previous owner, owner who committed crimes so horrible his mind tortured itself to death, bringing every other inhabitants of this body, but leaving the physical part intact, thebrain, the chemical impulses and of every single victims personality, coming together to create a new being.

Me.

And that's all I know. A fact so deeply implanted it could be called instinct. Beyond these words, I know nothing, neither my name, origin nor purpose.

Then, there is a voice.

"Get up, kid! You gotta run!" A gruff, muffled voice barks.

I open my eyes to see a large piece of armor with a glowing orange visor and dark red paint job.

I realize I'm on my knees, in the middle of the road and get up.

"What's happening?" I ask looking down in disgust; my clothes are… ugly, a blue polo shirt and green sport short. I'm no fashion expert… Heck, who knows, maybe I am, but still...

A metal hand shoves me into a mass of fleeing peoples. "Zergs! Run!" the red armored man barks.

We are on an asphalted road, surrounded by wasteland. And wrecks. Plenty of fleeing peoples too…

I begin running in the same direction as them, bumping in quite a few. I'm stronger and heavier than most, as evidenced by the number of people I inadvertently knock to the floor.

It's dark and there's panicked peoples everywhere, a mild sandstorm impairs visibility. that makes me panic as well, but not the same sort of fear; mine is from the unknown, everyone else's is from something they very well know.

Behind us, gunfire erupts, causing flashes of light to illuminate the night.

I help a man back to his feet and ask him what is going on.

"Where have you been living, in a cave?" He exclaims as I run by his side, "The Zergs are attacking and the last dropships are leaving!"

I pass by more heavily armored soldiers, aiming their weapons at something behind me, and a second latter, hear the sound of gunfire, closer than ever.

There is light, a few dozen meters ahead; chemical flames and floodlights. Another pair of soldiers is standing on either sides of some sort of ramp leading up to the lights. "Keep moving!" One yells, "Get to the dropships!"

And they open fire, which probably means the 'Zergs' are right behind us.

The man next to me, the one I was talking to earlier, gets impaled by some scythe shaped claw, then jerked backward.

I watch as his head and upper torso are ripped clean off by a creature halfway between cobra and religious mantis.

How I know what a cobra and mantis are but not that thing, I really can't tell, nor do I care; right now, I got to run faster.

I do and just in time too, because I feel a slight breeze on the back of my neck just after I do. I'd go faster, but these slow pokes won't fucking pick up the pace.

"Move it, they're right behind us!" I yell. A few do look back and these begin running really fast, quickly imitated by the rest.

We climb the ramp pretty much as the soldiers get butchered.

There are six dropships, not touching down, just hovering there, ramp lowered.

In one dropship, the furthest away, a soldier dressed in a tight white suit is firing into the hordes. She –it's a she alright- is using some sort of sniper rifle and firing one shot per second.

Her dropship is hovering a meter away from the actual landing pad and only the ramp is touching it.

Most of the crowd head for the nearest dropships, but they are soon crowded, so I head for the one with the sniper, knowing fully well that if they decide I'm not coming along, I won't have time to catch another ride.

The woman sees me, more accurately, what's chasing me, and despite the tactical goggles she's wearing, I can see just how fucked I am.

I just run faster, but she knows I'm screwed and orders the pilot to take off.

The ship climb and get further away from the landing pad. Two meters, three…

Once there is five meters between the ramp and I, I bend my knees and use all of my strength to push myself off the pad.

Next thing I know, I'm surrounded by red light and metal with a high-caliber rifle in my face.

"How… Shit, kid, that was a hell of a jump you pulled…" The woman breathes, lowering her gun to offer me her hand, which I take.

She shoves me back on my feet and we turn to watch as about half the civilians are left behind, having tried to all fit inside three of the ships.

The rest are empty.

Peoples try to fight the Zergs and some even manage to kill the smaller ones, but the cobra-like things quickly join the fight. Women, men, child, old rich, poor. They all die, all because they followed the flow instead of trusting logic.

Peoples get killed or maimed trying to help their loved ones. A man stand in the way of a slash aimed at his daughter and ends up clutching his stomach with both hands.

Some leap down the pad, thinking they will find salvation, but only ending up in a sea of Zergs.

The hatch closes on the scene and I realize I fell on my knees. I drag myself to a seat made for armored soldiers and massage my face.

I could have done something. I ran like a coward when I could have helped many of these peoples… This is my first day of existence –whatever or whoever I am- and I inaugurate it by running like a fucking pussy.

The woman puts her hand on my shoulder. Not a comforting gesture, she wants my attention, so I glance up.

"I'm going to need your name." She explains, holding a datapad.

"Blacklight." That answer came by itself, no thinking was involved in it, although I feel this is more what I am than whom.

"Black Light… Your parents had a sense of humor."

"I don't remember them." I explain and she leans in.

"I know."

"You do?" Maybe she knows something about who I am… or was… or whatever…

"Yeah, they way your mind… 'tastes' reminds me of resocialised marines and your brain is so scrambled, I wouldn't be amazed if you received multiple Memory Wipes."

"You can read my brain?"

She laughs. "You got a lot to catch on, kid."


	2. Sorted Out

"Alright, kid," The sniper explains, "We're in August 2504, in a chunk of space called Koprulu sector." She takes a seat and removes her goggle. She has brown eyes, the same shade as her hairs. "These things down there are Zergs, one of the Dominion's many enemies…"

"Dominion?" I cut, causing a distressed sigh.

"Wow, they were thorough… Okay, find yourself an history teacher if you want to know more, all I can tell you is that we're the good guys, okay?" I nod and she continues, "The Zergs are advancing and troops have been ordered to fall back to the core worlds and recruit civilians on the way to increase our battle force…" 

"And I just got recruited?" I finish. She nods.

"That's right, I've got a test for you here, we're ordered to get everyone trough it as soon as they get to the cruisers, but since you're here and I already psi-screened you…"

She hands me the Datapad and I am faced with a multiple choices question.

_While driving your vulture hoverbike down the dusty back roads of the planet Shiloh, you see a hitchhiker. What do you do?_

_A:Pick him up._

_B:Keep on truckin'._

_C:The Dominion has outlawed hitchhiking and offers a substantial reward for reporting this transgression. Turn him in and collect the reward._

_D:Flick my cigar at his face as I rocket by at 90 mph._

I tap A and the 3D display switches to another question.

_Your dropship crash lands in the wastes of Mar Sara. There are three of you and there is only enough water for two. What do you do?_

_A: Try to ration the water as best we can._

_B: Real men only drink Scotty Bolger's anyway._

_C: Take a vote, light a fire, and sing some songs._

_D: The others won't need water. They "died in the accident." *wink*_

Quite frankly, I think it's better some of us survive than we all die because we tried to be heroes, so I select D. Next question is really a pain in the ass to me.

_Your mother gives you a sonic toothbrush for your birthday, but what you really wanted was a gauss rifle. What do you do?_

_A: Pretend I love sonic toothbrushes._

_B: Remember... there's always re-gifting._

_C: Yell "I told you a gauss rifle, mom!" then run out of the room._

_D: Smash the toothbrush in front of her._

I don't have a mother, I don't know what a sonic toothbrush is and I never wanted a Gauss rifle, whatever it is. I press A. It's probably what I'd do anyway.

_You've got plans to go to Bacchus Moon with your friends this weekend, when the foreman calls you back to the vespene refinery. What do you do?_

_A: Bacchus Moon can wait. I've got work to do._

_B: Bacchus Moon it is! The vespene gas will be there on Monday._

_C: Get 'er done as soon as possible and try to go to Bacchus Moon by Sunday._

_D: Bacchus Moon is a hub of illegal activity and vice... why would I go there?_

I choose A. Guess I'm no party guy.

_You're alone in the desert and you see a tortoise laying on its back, belly baking in the hot sun. It can't flip over, not without your help, but you're not helping. Why is that?_

_A: Is this a test?_

_B: I like turtles!_

_C: I want to see it squirm._

_D: What do you mean I'm not helping?_

Why wouldn't I help it? I select D.

_You have been captured by the infamous terrorist Jim Raynor, and will now surely be tortured. What do you do?_

_A: Try to appeal to his humanity._

_B: Tolerate anything for the Dominion. "Thank you sir, may I have another?"_

_C: Beyond a certain pain threshold I'll just pass out._

_D: No pain, no gain! Besides, who said torture was a bad thing?_

Since I don't feel much loyalty to a government I learned of two minutes ago, I tap A.

_The outlaw Jim Raynor robs a bank. As he makes his getaway, he drops a bag full of credits. You..._

_A: Report the incident to the nearest Dominion officer._

_B: Return the credits to the bank._

_C: Credits? What credits? *wink*_

_D: Donate it to Farm Aid._

Damn, that Raynor guy doesn't look like a very nice person to have in your friends circle_… _What would the nearest Dominion officer be doing there instead of chasing the guy, anyway? If I'm really honest, right now I have nothing but the clothes on my back and what the sniper told me, so I select C.

_On the outskirts of Korhal you see some drunkards bullying an innocent civilian. You..._

_A: Find the nearest Dominion officer and report the incident._

_B: Pop open a can of whoop-ass!_

_C: Flick a cigar at them and run._

_D: Join the bullying. Sometimes civilians need to be put in their place._

After what happened today, B.

_You see squatters setting up in a nearby abandoned supply depot. You..._

_A: Report the incident. Squatting has been outlawed by the Dominion._

_B: Let them crash at my place._

_C: Vagrants are known disease carriers. Sneak in one night and vaccinate them while they're asleep._

_D: Ignore them and hope they'll go away._

_E: Purge the dirty hovel with cleansing fire._

Purge the… What? B, I guess, since I'm pretty much one of them at this point.

_You see a bird chirping loudly on a nearby comsat station. What is the first word that comes to your mind?_

_A: Pretty._

_B: Freedom._

_C: Target._

_D: Nuisance._

I picture myself the scene and only get a single word; **Consume**. I press A.

_In your home in the middle of the night, you're awoken by a man claiming to be a Dominion officer. He requests your help. What's the first question that comes to mind?_

_A: Orders, sir?_

_B: Is anyone hurt?_

_C: Is this person really who he says he is?_

_D: Whaddya want? Hint: It better be good._

_E: Ignore the officer and go back to sleep._

Since I don't really know what the dominion is and what their agents look like: C.

_You're relaxing in a cantina when a fight escalates next to you. How does this make you feel?_

_A: Itchy! Violence gives me hives._

_B: Prepared. I brought my gauss rifle._

_C: Irritated. They're interrupting my "me" time. End the fight quickly and return to my seat._

_D: Afraid. I just wet myself._

I intend to carry a fucking gun for the rest of my life after today, so: B.

The screen flickers and text scrolls:

You Have Been Chosen To Become a

**MARINE**

_Pack your bags, citizen! We are ready to save you from your bleak and irrelevant existence. You've proven that you have a tough-as-neosteel attitude, possess the guts to complete an assignment no matter the cost, and are about as smart as the creep I scraped off my boot this morning. A package from Augustgrad will be arriving shortly with your first set of stimpacks. Give 'em a try. But go easy, they've got a kick. We're shipping you off to the barracks for brain-panning at 0600 tomorrow morning. It's mostly harmless, and you will… well… we will prevail. Prepare for the infantry, maggot! You are hereby recruited to become a marine, the ballistic alloy shield of the emperor's expansive colonies!_

"So, how long is the training going to take?"

"We're in a hurry, the training corps will have to form you in three days flat."

I look at the answers I picked. "It would have assigned me as a Marine no matter what I answered, right?"

She just nod, "Yup, the questions were to establish a psych profile."

"So?"

"Normally you'd be a fighter pilot, Vicking, most likely, but there's no time to form you and we don't need pilots." She seems apologetic.

"No problem, I understand, any more engagements with the Zergs on the horizon?" I enquire.

"You'll get three times your share by the time we reach the core worlds."

Good, I'll probably die in the process, but what the fuck, I'm barely alive to begin with. "What's your name?"

The woman seems surprised, "Spider."

Seeing as mine is Blacklight, I can't talk. "Well," I extend my hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Well, Black," She laughs, "You are a hard man to understand, and that's from a telepath!"

"I did have my brain flushed in the middle of a Wasteland…" I scoff.


	3. Viral Bombardment

**A/N: So, just to mess with your heads and make you check out tons of wikis, Black isn't Alex Mercer. (Nor Zeus) **

**Kane: Yes, I'll attempt to follow canons, but he, Blacklight's a hard thing to ignore, so it will affect the universes more and more as time goes.**

**He who See's: well, Hob never meant his story to be the best and neither do I, we're both just telling a story :)**

The Sarge stands up, bumping the top of his helmet against the dropship's.

"A'right ya pussies! These suits are worth more than ya, so try to get killed close to tha dropships, will ya?"

"Yes, Sir!" Turns out, discipline is all they had time to teach us before the first mission, so now I'm strapped in a CMC suit along with twenty more recruits.

"So, if ya wanna live trough this shit, remember what imma tell you: Stick together, keep your guns loaded and bayonet sharp; this is war!"

With that, he floods the squad comm. with Hard rock, so loud it hurts my ears

"_Go go go!"_

The sarge straps himself in and I know this landing will be extreme.

"_Rock and Roll'!"_

I arm my C-14 but keep the safety on, while the pilot announces the LZ is hot.

"_The smell of rusty metal, dead zerg and napalm, The sound of friggin' laser beams and Gatling guns. Strapped into powered armor, Got the ladies always looking at me, They can't believe the size of my over-engineered codpiece."_

The dropship buckles as serrated spikes tear trough the hull like it was paper.

"Shit! Light's hit!" Someone curses as blood splatters my armor.

Am I? My suit's vitals are green...

"Negative!" I retort, and all eyes converge to the guy next to me. One spike shattered his visor and severed his spine neatly.

His blood is over my armor.

Out the corner of my eyes, I see the screen that shows my own face. I'm turning pale.

I feel strangely self conscious, knowing this could easily have been me, had the dropship been going just a bit faster.

"_Well, I'm a convict In a siege tank I ride Not Protossin', not Zergin', No, I'm Terran up the night! Terran up the night! Terran up the night! Terran up the night!"_

I'm pretty close to the 'real' Marines here, really, square jaw, pale skin, head closely shaved and all, except I am a lot younger than most of them, in my early twenties, actually, and most vets around here are in their thirties.

"_Alright! Don't want no shiny protoss flying machines Rather have a clunky, funky, rusty SCV."_

"Grab his tags and ammo!" The sarge orders.

Doing so, I need to hold with both hands to prevent from loosing my balance in the rocking dropship, but I must leg go to pick up the Impalers clip.

I toss them to the sarge and the movement is enough to make me fall on another Marine's laps.

"You alright, son!" The voice is barely audible with the deafening music, but I still answer.

"Just fine!"

"_Strap yourselves in girls, We're gonna soar across the stars 'Cause when you've got a Battlecruiser, Hell, who needs a__car__?_"

Something explodes outside and the Dropship buckles, throwing me across the cabin and into the loading ramp.

"Fuck this fucking clusterfuck ass operation!" They also had time to teach us how to swear. "Can't they at least soften ground forces before they send us in?"

"No they can't, Marine, now…" Whatever the sarge was about to say, it's lost in the rip and tearing the ramp and subsequent rush of wind.

My altitude meter leaps to two thousand klicks.

Overhead, something else falls off the dropship; the dead guy.

The ship speeds out of sight and I spin in an attempt to land on my feet. As if it would change something… At this altitude, my suit will crush me like a smashed can of bean. I could try to land head first, make this painless, but this would not help either…

One kilometer. I can still hear the song over the radio:

"_You come in peace, well I come in war! I'm counting corpses, I ain't counting score! When the protoss charge and the zerg start to swarm, Don't want no Zeus, I want my own Thor!"_

Four hundred meters; this is gonna be…

*Wham!*

The air is forced out of my lungs by the impact and my vision goes red. I feel an incredible pressure as the suit is shrinking around me.

Well fuck! Dying doesn't even hurt a bit!

But then, vision returns and I'm standing in a small, chest-high crater, kneeling so low I might as well be prosternating.

I'm alive. What the fuck?

Alive but half naked; the suit exploded in a thousand pieces, strewn around the crater. Some sort of impact protection?

I still have a bit of helmet hanging on my head, the fusion pack clutching my chest and the gloves are still holding my C-14.

That's hilarious, I look like some kind of stripper…

Something tickles me all over as I am surrounded by a whirlwind of red and black… Fleshy stuff?

A new suit is assembled around me, identical to the slightest detail to the previous one, although the pieces still fill the crater…

Before I can debate what just happened, the other guy's corpse crashes ten meters behind me.

I already grabbed his tags and ammo, but I feel like I still should check on him. There is something else I need…

The corpse is twisted and broken, the whole upper body is facing the wrong way… or the other way around, I don't know.

There's nothing salvageable on him yet…

Tendrils shoot out of my armor and wrap themselves around the dead guy, they rip his armor and his flesh like it was paper, dissolving everything in an instant.

Then, there's pain and a flood of memories that aren't mine.

"**This is my C14 Impaler rifle! There are many like it but that one is mine!" **This is accompanied with every single maintenance operation that must be performed on a C14 to keep it firing; cleaning the coils, greasing the hammer, oiling the loading chamber.

"**There is one rule in combat and one rule only; kill or be killed, a your CMC armor will allow you to kill your enemies even with your bare hands if you have too, but only if you take care of it!" **Every weaknesses, strong points and design oddities of the Powered armor pop in my mind, as if they were obvious. The midsection, the visor and the back are the soft points of this suit…

"**Close combat exercise, because ammo is cheap, but Dropships to bring it aren't! We will show you all the ins and out of going toe to toe with the biggest threats out there, listen good!" **The bayonet, the team training, the standard punches and kicks. My mind is flooded with information and it hurts at every new burst of knowledge.

Finally, I see all the Zergs, Protoss and Confederates that guy had killed.

Glenn O'Reilly, Corporal, started out on Mar Sara as militia, joined the Sons of Korhal when the Zergs overwhelmed the planet, stuck with Mengsk after Raynor defected. Never knew why the Marshal had defected…

When the flood of image has stopped, I feel the hot sand under my knees and hands, which is ridiculous, since I'm wearing a full powered armor!

That grew out of my body.

I stand and survey the area for potential threats. My biological CMC doesn't function like a real one, but I still, somehow, manage to magnify my vision.

This plase is one big empty sea of dunes and perched on one of these dunes, two hundred meters north-west, are a cluster of Hydralisks, raining shit on the Dominion's air force. Guess I'll have to kill them.

The dead man's C14 is unusable, but he had a pair of grenades that somehow did not go off in the crash, so I pick them up and move on.


	4. Evolving

**A/N: He Who See's: What I mean is that we all tell our stories to the best of out ability and shouldn't compare them, I wrote shit fics too and I still do, I just don't realize it yet. I have a philosophy; if you don't feel like clubbing you two years younger self with a very large object as you look into the past, either you need to live more or you're not learning. **

**Thanks for reviewing! :D **

** KafeiDetour: So am I, I never even had a plan for this fic, I just started writing it to get the idea out of my head and be able to focus on other stories, but I'm starting to like it.**

The first hydralisk to see me, I dispatch with a few accurate bursts from a hundred meters away. O'Reilly was a good shot.

The seven remaining Hydras turn to me and begin throwing spikes from their ribcage.

An organic looking ballistic shield forms on my left hand just in time to soak up the volley.

The shield just grew from my arm like a tight cluster of tree branches, shaped like a flame or a tear or something like that, I don't know, I'm four days old, my repertory for such references is pretty limited and Glenn was no genius.

I keep firing my Impaler all the way to the creatures. Their carapace is thick, but the C14 is powerful and soon, two more are down. Five left.

The spikes are slowly chipping away at my shield, but it doesn't hurt. As a matter of fact, I don't think I know what pain is, I don't remember ever feeling it, but the concept is familiar…

The wall of biomass falls apart just as I get in grenade tossing range, you guess what I do next.

The frags go off like firecrackers and with the same effectiveness, barely kicking up dirt, which, in turn, prevents me from seeing the Zergs, but they still see me, as evidenced by the shitload of spikes that dig right into my armor.

Now, THAT hurts! It's like having someone with spiked shoes trample you.

The biological CMC responds a lot better than a real one, almost as if it were part of my body… Which it is.

I pop a few Impaler rounds into what seems to be the shape of an Hydralisk, but hit nothing.

Spray and pray time; the C14 emits a satisfied hum and I squeeze the trigger in full auto.

The spikes pierce the sand at hypersonic speeds, creating tiny whirlwinds, but that's it. No blood.

Glenn's memories of Zergs burrowing to sneak up on him flash in my mind and I spin...

…Just in time to shield my visor with the Impaler. I shoulder the thing and squeeze the trigger. When it explodes, my rifle has more punch than the grenades. Fuck my life.

I bite the dust and feel pain once more; my whole right side got scorched, armor broke and paint scraped. It grows back almost instantly, yet a flurry of spikes quickly tear the shit out of the armor, bringing even more pain, given the fact the armor is a fucking part of me.

What a retard Idea… If I can grow any kind of clothes, I think I'll go for something that doesn't make me as easy to his as the broad side of a barn.

The back of my mind suggests polo and shirts, but I go for the boots, green cargo pants and black T-shirt I wore during training. At least it doesn't make me look like a fag.

That's what Glenn would have thought anyway.

Protection-wise, I figure it can't fare worst that neo-butter-steel plates… If the armor's indeed made of neo-steel

I roll away in time to dodge a scythe to the face, then throw my legs in the air to roll away backward, except I put so much force in it, it becomes a back flip. I feel no disorientation, as if I was watching the scene from afar…

My feet meet the ground and I leap at my attacker, who was getting ready for another swing.

I land on its crested head and begin punching the shit out of it.

The carapace crackles after two hit, but around me, the six four remaining Hydras are taking up flanking position, so I need to end this fucktard quick and run away.

I punch harder and a crack appears just as the first spike imbeds itself in my back. It's more of a nuisance than a threat, really, since it _stings_ when it goes right trough me, but the hole just seals itself right back.

Although with every impact, I feel my hunger growing.

One last punch and I can rip its skull open like an egg.

The hunger is now unbearable; it's in every cell of my being telling me to give in and feed, that it will solve all my problems…

I do it, giving in to the feeling just as I had with O'Reilly's corpse. This is much scarier, much more predatory… I love it.

Tendrils shoot from my body and wrap around the Hydralisk's, digesting it alive and slowly pulling its biomass in mine.

The thing has no memories, only desires and impulses, but I can feel a presence, a softness nudging it the right way, a mother figure.

Then, I reach a motherfucking illumination, just like when you remember where you left your keys. Something I already knew, but was too… Weak? Young? I don't know how to explain it, even to myself, but I know peoples like me, whatever I am, grow up by eating other organisms, and while I'm only two days old, this body has seen its share of combat and evolved quite a few tricks, only waiting for me to re-learn them.

I consume about half the Hydralisk before feeling satiated, then, I turn and face the remaining Zergs, hands turning into ferocious looking, thirty centimeters long claws. It stings somewhat, but I don't mind…

The volley of spikes I catch in the face, however, I mind very much, as it brings back some of the hunger.

So, getting shot won't kill me, but it can starve me… Now, I guess I'll test these claws latter.

Let's see if I can run, now…

I kick up a wall of sand as I start running and, a second latter, that wall is pierced by four pissed off Zergs.

My right arm flattens and expands into a shield roughly the same shape as the last one and I use it to cover my back.

I don't know what the shield is made of, but it's hard enough to stop spikes when my body isn't. Maybe it's in how the biomass is arranged…

A scythe scrapes against my shield, meaning I should MOVE IT!

Just at the bottom of my vision, I see red and black tendrils wrap around my legs, like muscles, before going grayish.

The sudden burst of speed almost knocks me off balance, but leaves my pursuers to throw spikes in frustration.

My left hand is still shaped like a claw, so I flicked them the bird with my blood red, razor sharp finger.

I'll have to figure a way to take it off before I meet any Terrans or they'll think I'm infested…


	5. Lousy Reception

**A/N: A little note on Black's evolution (I hate that name, should have thought some more about it, he'll choose a better one soon ^^) it won't be like ZEUS in anyway, where Alex absorbed DNA to develop new powers, not at first, anyway, Black already has all the powers Alex did and some he didn't, his body simply unlearned them at the same time as it unlearned its memories and such, so every time he absorbs biomass , it will be modified to heal him (Right now, he's like a guy that hasn't eaten in a month, he can only consume a tiny bit otherwise he'll overload his still weak body).**

**As for the rest, well, it's part of the plot :)**

It's been an hour since I started running and I'm not even out of breath, but I'm getting real bored real fast, so I try to switch my arms back to normal while running.

My clawed hand tickles and flattens until I have another shield protecting me. Wrong button, I guess.

It's like trying to remember the name of an actor, you know it's there, you know how it sounds but just can't put your finger on it.

I stop running and relax myself. Maybe some … There!

Both hands return to normal, along with my legs… Wish I knew just how I did it… Maybe I just need to relax for the combat stuff to withdraw…

Anyway, I lost the Hydras, so I guess it's time for me to find a way off this rock.

Well, where am I now?

A survey of my surroundings tells me something I already knew; dune, dune and… Yup, dunes.

So, yeah, at least I got plenty of Zergs to, uh, eat.

I know for a fact they are massing to the north, but I don't know why, the presence is just telling them to. I guess eating that Hydra has let me feel the presence like the Zerg did… That or I've gone nuts, which would explain a lot of things, honestly.

I can't understand much of what's going on with the bugs, since I seem to be out of the _reception_ _zone_, but just enough to track down the main alien force, if I wanted to.

I don't, I want to find some fucking Terrans and get the fuck off this rock before it's overrun. Come to think of it, why do I want to join the Terrans so much? They most likely won't take very nicely to me looking like a Zerg when I'm pissed and surely will try to kill me… But then, I sure as heck won't help the Swarm butcher peoples, so I guess I'll have to be very careful with those abilities of mine…

I jump in fright when I hear a radio transmission.

"This is Ragnarok six to anyone hearing this," An heavily accented female voice calls out, sounding half tired, half hurt, "We were shot down by Zerg flyers, coordinates unknown…" Gunfire erupts and man screams in the background, "We need support!"

Nothing creepy in itself, but, fuck, I'm not carrying a radio.

"Uh…Ragnarok… This is, uh, Private light, do you copy?" I answer, tentatively, but the woman repeats her pleas for help a minute latter, so I guess it's not going both ways. Would have been awesome, though.

"We are popping a green smoke, please send support, they're all over us!"

Well, if I see the green smoke I'll… What will I do exactly? Go there without a gun and go toe to toe with Zergs using my claws and shield? Hydralisks were enough to set me running and they're not even the worst thing out there, according to Glenn's memories…

A flash of his experience against the Protoss surfaces, a massive alien surrounded by blue flame, incinerating Marines by just flicking its wrist.

I might be a freak, but I'm not the worst one in this place.

I can hear a firefight to the right and there's green smoke rising over the horizon in that direction, yet the Zergs are massing the opposite way.

So, interesting choice, go right and join the Terrans, go left and try to find the presence or move forward and stay away from both groups. I have not being alive for long and Glenn was an idiot, but I realize peoples are rarely given such clear choices in life and I'd better not waste it.

Glenn would go for the Terrans without hesitation, the... Original me would keep on moving and the Hydralisk would follow the call of his queen…

My original self was only two days old, the hydra was a mindless animal and Glenn was a brain bleached dumbass, but he survived quite a few engagements by trusting his guts, which are actually a part of me, now, and my own guts say we… _I _should side with humanity. For now.

So, Ragnarok, here I come…

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Sergeant Terrance Glasgow had started in the UED Marine Corps four years earlier, just in time to be signed for this expedition in Koprulu. "In and out," the brass said, "just taming the local wildlife and setting some misbehaving colonists straight." Well he was taming the local wildlife alright, had been for the last four years, surviving with the rest of Ragnarok division by working as mercs for the Dominion, UED be damned.

He was now set up in the back of a crashed Dropship, holding the Zergs out alongside Clover, Looping and Bridgett. Clover was the squad medic, yet still used Glasgow's sidearm to hold the Zerglings at bay while Looping, the pilot, did the same with an AGR-14 he always kept next to his seat.

The other Marine, Bridgett, was stimming like a Bacchus Moon junky, despite Clover's bitching, and scored in more kills than anyone else.

Glasgow fired his C-141 at a Baneling just as the Zerg appeared at the top of the crater, ten meters further, and the thing exploded in a bubbly mess of green goo.

A Zergling appeared right trough the mess and made it halfway across the slope before being shot by Looping.

During the crash, the Dropship had displaced the sand into a neat circle around the wrecks, creating a tiny, sandy valley. The Sergeant's only problem was that this also meant he could not take a shot at his enemy before it was right at his doorstep, although it was not that much of a problem in itself, would they just stay in his line of fire; instead the pestering bugs kept running in circles around the wrecks, looking for a better way in.

"Any luck with the radio?" He asked Clover, who shook her head.

"You honestly think they care enough to send a rescue party?" The Medic scoffed, putting down a Zergling with a burp of 8mm spikes.

"Doesn't hurt to ask…" He growled in response, wondering if the _Fletcher_ was in range.

Probably not, otherwise this crash site would be crawling with Marines already, with a _Hercules_-class Battlecruiser providing air support.

He fired his barrel-slung RPG into an Hydralisk and was about to reload when something landed on top of the Dropship. Something heavy.

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The space ship's plating bends under my weight, ruining all my chances at discretion.

I leap off the Dropship just as 8mm spikes shred it to shit.

Impaler rifles don't have that kind of punch, so those guys are using something bigger…

I land with a roll and punt a Zergling so hard its wings fall off and it disappears far outside the crater.

Another weird ass Zerg rolls toward me, it's green and bubbly, unlike anything Glenn's ever seen, although it's so fat I can't see it being a threat. The thing rolls in my direction and I prepare myself for a two hundred yards kick. It gets in range, I pick up some momentum and…

OH FUCK!

No clue what happened, but IT BURNS! It's all over my eyes and face, burning my skin and clothes. The pain is not the worst, it's the hunger, it soars trough my veins like fire, threatening to consume me. I have to stop it! Oh god why won't it stop!

Trough the red haze I can see my hands, they're bubbling and melting…

The burning is over, but the hunger only grows… I must… Consume.

The first Zergling arrives just as tendrils begin shooting out of my body, twisting and dancing like flames.

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The scream was long and loud, full of pain and anguish and definitely not human.

The Ex-UED Soldiers looked at each others in shock while the Zergs turned their attention to something just next to the dropship. He could hear the first Zergling begin tearing the thing apart, earning a renewed roar, this one was far more ferocious than the last and Terrance understood something was about to happen…

"Everyone, down!" They did so just as something exploded next to the Dropship, piercing the hull like it was paper. Tendrils and tentacles of varying size shot trough like bullets, rocking the wreckage and its occupants like ragdolls. Then, everything stood still and scream was replaced by moans of wounded Zergs for about ten seconds, after which, the tendrils began moving the other way just as fast, one of the pulling a Roach right trough the hull in an explosion of gore.

Someone screamed in fright and it took Glasgow a second to realize it was him. He shut his mouth and waited to see what happened next, but the whole place was eerily silent. No more Zergs, no more screams…

He looked up and saw that there were now holes all over the ship, some large enough to leat a Hydralisk trough.

In one of these holes stood a kid, barely over twenty, wearing a t-shirt with cargo pants. The kid smiled and waved, "Hey, I'm Black." Then he collapsed to the floor, falling like a dead tree.


End file.
